The Dinosaur Feather

unpacked her shopping.
    ‘I bought it for her.’
    Anna raised her eyebrows.
    ‘I was waiting for you. In her flat. We saw you from the window and when you didn’t come back, Mrs Snedker thought you must have gone shopping, so I followed you,’ he confessed.
    ‘And she asked you to get her some bread?’
    Søren nodded.
    ‘And you did?’
    Søren nodded again. A tenth of a second later Søren heard Anna laugh for the first time. It didn’t last long, but it suited her.
    ‘We’ll have dinner first,’ Anna said. ‘Then Lily needs to have a bath, and at seven o’clock I put her to bed. You’ll have to wait. I don’t want Lily seeing me when . . . You can wait in the living room.’
    Søren watched her briefly. Could you do that? Postpone dealing with terrible news until a more convenient time cropped up? He went into the living room and sat down in a chair. Wasn’t that precisely what he had done, when he put the four baby pictures of Maja in a box in the basement? Carried on as though nothing had happened? Lily peeked at him from the doorway, and he smiled at her. Anna came into the living room to fetch a bowl and glanced at him quickly.
    ‘Do you have children?’ she asked.
    ‘I called you yesterday. Twice. Why didn’t you answer?’ Søren said, ignoring her question.
    ‘I was . . . out,’ Anna replied swiftly and headed back to the kitchen with the bowl.
    ‘Where?’
    ‘I’m afraid I can’t tell you that.’
    Søren sighed, then he wrinkled his nose.
    It was the second time today he had been given the brush-off.

CHAPTER 11
     
    Anna knew perfectly well she hadn’t bumped into the World’s Most Irritating Detective in the supermarket by accident. She had spotted him outside the entrance to Johannes’s stairwell, been aware that he had run after her and seen him throw up his hands in frustration when the bus pulled out. How he had ended up in her living room doing a jigsaw puzzle with Lily, while she was cooking dinner, was beyond her. When the potatoes had boiled, she made mash with angry movements and slammed the plates down on the kitchen table. She hated him! Since he had entered her life, less than a week ago, everything had started to unravel. How dare he buy a loaf of bread for Maggie, how dare he carry her daughter? She wanted him to leave her alone and she didn’t want to hear what he had come to say. Johannes must not be dead. Tears started rolling down her cheeks. The steamy mashed potatoes were in a bowl in the sink, and suddenly she slumped forward as if she had been stabbed.
    When she had composed herself, she fetched Lily from the living room.
    ‘Dinner’s ready, Lily,’ she said and shot the World’s Most Irritating Detective a look of disapproval. If he thought shewould invite him to eat with them, he could think again. Once he was off duty, he would undoubtedly go home to his trophy wife with her shiny white teeth and her golden skin, and they would cuddle up on their designer sofa and he would think how lucky he was with his Pernille or his Sanne or whatever her name was, everything so picture perfect. But now, while he was still on duty, he was playing at being a social Robin Hood, watching her, poor struggling Anna, with his dark brown eyes and his healthy freckles; he might at least have the decency to leave his freckles in his locker when he arrived for work in the morning; his farm-boy freckles were an insult to criminals everywhere and Anna in particular. How she hated him!
    Later, when Lily had fallen asleep, she went to the living room and found the World’s Most Irritating Detective in a chair by the window. He was looking down at the street.
    ‘It’s very cold and dark outside,’ he remarked.
    ‘Really!’
    The World’s Most Irritating Detective slowly turned his head and looked at Anna, who had sat down on the sofa, as far away from him as possible.
    ‘Why are you so angry?’ he asked.
    Anna scowled at him. The scent of Lily still lingered on her clothes; putting her to bed had been a struggle and when she had finally nodded off, Anna had sat on the floor watching her. Eventually, she had got up and left the bedroom, suddenly pleased that Søren was there, glad that she wasn’t alone.
    ‘I’m so angry I could kill someone,’ she hissed, and looked first at her hands and then at him. Søren leaned forwards and looked compassionately at her.
    ‘Johannes is dead. But I reckon you’ve already worked that out. He was murdered.’
    Anna stared at